


But I'm a Stormtrooper!

by ester_inc



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ester_inc/pseuds/ester_inc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Resistance pilot and a reformed stormtrooper walk into a bar. Finn's not sure what the punchline is, but he's almost certain it's gonna hurt. (He's wrong.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I'm a Stormtrooper!

Finn studied the bright orange liquid in his glass. He was hunched over the drink, his elbows on the table, and every couple of minutes he had to remind himself not to straighten up. Relax and blend in, Poe had told him; don't be a trooper. Coming from anyone else, that last bit might have put Finn on the defensive, but Poe had leaned in real close to say it, and he'd drawn back with one of _those_ smiles, full of warmth and a sprinkle of good-natured mischief on top.

Still no sign of Poe. Finn tapped out a restless rhythm against the floor with his feet, the sound lost in the general chaos of the bar. It had been – sixteen minutes, he saw when he subtly checked the clock for the umpteenth time.

Perhaps not so subtly: A pretty woman with red hair and vaguely feline features leaned her hip against his table. "Waiting for someone?"

"Um," Finn said, acutely aware that he should have said no when Poe volunteered him for this mission. "Yes. Yes, I am waiting for someone."

"It can get lonely, waiting," she said, sliding a bit closer along the edge of the table, her hand coming to rest near his arm. "You sure you don't want company?"

Finn gulped down a mouthful of the orange liquid to buy himself some time. It was thick, almost syrupy on his tongue.

"No," he said, swallowing. "I mean, yes, no, thank you."

She pursed her lips, more amused than annoyed, which was a small relief.

"They must be very special, for you to be so loyal, or very foolish, to keep you waiting."

"Both, I'm afraid," Poe said from behind her, his voice friendly and affable with a hint of self-deprecation, and before either Finn or the woman had time to react, he'd somehow managed to maneuver himself between her and Finn in a way that made her step away from the table, leaving room for Poe to take a seat next to Finn. 

It was a smooth, natural transition that Finn didn't think he'd be able to replicate if his life depended on it, but like usual, the thought only made him glad. 

"I can see that," the woman said as she gave Poe a look very similar to the one she'd given to Finn, only it felt more appropriate somehow, more deserved, now that it was directed at Poe. "And so the question becomes, exactly how foolish are you?"

Poe threw an arm up along the booth behind Finn's back and laughed, genuine and full-bodied. "Not foolish enough to leave without my man here," he said, dropping his hand on Finn's shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. "He only shares on special occasions, and while I'm sure you're _very_ special, you picked the wrong night to try your luck."

The woman pouted, but it was more playful than genuinely disappointed. "I suppose I better leave you to it, then. Gentlemen," she said, with a small nod. "Don't bother to look for me if you change your mind."

Poe gave her a lazy salute with his free hand. "You won't have time to miss us for long, I'm sure."

As she disappeared into the crowd, Poe's smile slowly softened into something more serious.

"Are you okay?" He asked, turning to Finn, his eyes too dark and too close for comfort.

"Of course," Finn said, perhaps a tad too quickly. "Obviously, yeah."

Poe gave him a fond smile that left Finn searching for a distraction, his legs jittery again.

"Did the meeting go well?" Finn asked. "You said ten minutes, but you were gone almost twice that."

"And I told you not to worry unless I was gone for half an hour or longer," Poe said in low tones, placing a gentle hand on Finn's knee to still it. "Relax. Have a drink."

"I thought that was it," Finn said, his voice coming out in a strained whisper. "Meet, greet, get out."

A frown made an appearance on Poe's face, fleeting. "I told you, we'll attract less attention if we stay for a while before and after." 

He took his hand back, and Finn immediately missed the weight of it on his leg, which was – stupid.

"You did say that," Finn conceded, glancing at the crowd around them. They were on Coruscant, on one of the lower levels where the air quality started to drop. Despite having lost much of its political power and status, with its fabled days of glory long past, Coruscant was still a bustling core world where you could find anything and everything. It had remained largely loyal to the New Republic, but after the destruction of the Hosnian system and the Battle of Starkiller Base six months prior, the First Order had moved in, essentially taking over the upper levels. But below the ever-glittering facade of the city surface, there were still many places like this bar, places the wealthy would never grace with their presence, and the First Order rarely bothered with.

"I'm sorry." Poe sounded muted, less vibrant than usual, and Finn hated himself for being the cause of it. "I wasn't thinking."

"What are you talking about?"

"The redhead," Poe said, as if he was making sense. "You looked uncomfortable, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I could have found another way to get rid of her."

"Are you kidding me?" Finn shifted to look at Poe straight on, which seemed to remind Poe he still had a and on Finn's shoulder, which led to Finn regretting that he ever moved, which was – yeah. Stupid. He took a deep breath and rallied. "That was great! She practically left with a smile, I could never –"

"Okay, okay," Poe said, half-laughing. "I meant more the part where I heavily implied we're together. I know you're not comfortable with that."

"I'm not _not_ comfortable with that," Finn said weakly.

Poe ducked his head and ran a hand through his hair. "If we stay, we'll have to keep it up. Pretend we're together, I mean. It doesn't need to be anything more than this," he said, indicating how close they were sitting.

"That's fine," Finn said, and tried to look earnest and sure when Poe gave him a searching look.

"Okay," Poe eventually said, giving Finn a slight nod. "Wait here, I'll go get us another cocktail or two. Just for show," he added with a grin that was almost up to his usual rakish standards, "since we can't afford to get properly drunk right now. Pity."

"Okay. Bring me something –" Finn abruptly realized he had no idea how to finish the sentence. "Something not orange."

"Will do," Poe said as he stood up. "I'll be gone five minutes, max. I'll try to stay in sight."

"You don't have to do that," Finn told Poe's back, but it was doubtful he'd been heard.

He deliberately looked away from Poe, drawing the orange concoction closer before changing his mind and pushing it away. He then crossed his arms on the table, because the empty space was tempting him to smack his head against it a couple of times, and no one needed to see that.

Stupid. Yeah, there was a reason that word kept cropping up. 

During Finn's recovery, Poe had spent a lot of time at his side – far more than Finn would have expected, or thought he deserved. Sure, he was kind of a big deal these days, for real this time, but not like Poe. Resistance was in Poe's blood; he was dashing and daring and effortlessly heroic. He did all the right things for all the right reasons, and if he was also achingly human, with his quick smiles and firm hugs and smartass remarks, if he slept with his face smushed against the pillow and never seemed entirely awake before noon unless there was a mission or an emergency, or if at times there was too much honesty in his eyes – no one needed to know Finn had noticed.

In contrast, Finn had only helped Poe escape in the first place to save his own skin. He'd been willing to leave Rey and BB-8 within the reach of the First Order, because he was too afraid to stay. Rey was the sole reason he'd gone to the Starkiller Base. He hadn't done it for the New Republic, nor the Resistance, nor any higher cause; he'd done it for Rey, because when push came to shove, his fear for her won over his fear for himself.

Poe probably thought it noble enough an act, to risk your life for someone you cared about, but Finn knew better. He was trying to improve, in this new life he'd fallen into, but there was no escaping the facts. He was weak, and he was selfish; a washed up stormtrooper talking big and playing at being a hero. 

Poe deserved better, which was why, four months in, when Poe had asked – straight up and too honest by half – if Finn would be interested in becoming more than friends, Finn had said no. 

Nothing much had changed as a result of that short but painful conversation. Finn had acted strange for a week or so. Poe had _not_ acted strange for any amount of time. The only real difference, in the past two months, had been the steady beat of regret under Finn's breastbone, telling him _too late, too late, too late_ , every time Poe smiled at someone else. Poe smiled a lot. Finn's life was a misery of his own making.

"You look like you could use this," Poe said as he sat down next to Finn and slid a drink in front of him. It was white and frothy, and there was a swirl of something vaguely golden in the middle.

Finn gave it a dubious look but figured a taste couldn't hurt. He really could use a drink, and if not for the fact that Poe was counting on him as backup, Finn would have drowned the whole glass, no matter how vile.

"Huh," he said after a sip. "This is pretty good. What's it called?"

"The Jedimaker," Poe replied with a smile Finn couldn't quite classify. "I almost got you a Limesaber, but the texture is similar to the one you already have, and you didn't seem to be enjoying it."

"Limesaber," Finn repeated, skeptical. Not that _The Jedimaker_ was any better. "What's the name of the orange one then?"

Poe winced a little. "Alderaan Sunrise."

"Alderaan," Finn said. The name rang a bell. "Oh, that was –" One of the more stomach turning triumphs of the Old Empire. He found the lingering taste of the orange drink even more unpleasant now. "Do they have a Hosnian Sunset to complete the set?"

"You know," Poe said, looking pained, "they probably do."

Finn started laughing. It wasn't funny, he just couldn't help himself. "That's messed up."

"It really is," Poe said with a small laugh of his own. "Finn. Hey, Finn." 

Finn was still laughing. He wasn't sure he could stop. 

Poe put his arm around Finn's shoulders and pulled him close. "Finn," he said, his forehead resting against Finn's temple. "Buddy. C'mon, it's okay. I'm sorry."

"No," Finn said, abruptly discovering that he could, in fact, stop. He drew in a shuddering breath. "No, you have nothing to be sorry about."

Poe sighed and pulled away with a friendly pat on the back. "I could have bought you a Droitini. Or Astromech Iced Tea. Or a Screaming Sarlacc. Although, those last two – never order them unless your goal is to end up under the table."

"You're making these up," Finn said, pleased when Poe cracked a smile.

"I'm not, I swear. One day, when we're in a place like this and feeling less smart, I'll prove it to you."

"Okay, hotshot." Finn nodded at the glass full of something suspiciously orangey Poe was fiddling with. "What are you having?"

Poe shrugged, all casual-like, except Finn had actually spent enough time with him by now to detect signs of mild embarrassment. "The X-Wing Affair."

Finn grinned. "Seriously?"

"Hey, at least it's not XXX-Wing," Poe said.

Finn didn't quite get it. Poe looked like he realized that, but then instead of explaining, he just bit his lip for a moment. It was distracting.

"Let's just say there's never a good reason to order that one," Poe said. "It's like tar mixed with the worst smuggler's moonshine imaginable."

"I'll try to remember that," Finn said. He took another sip of The Jedimaker. Maybe there was something to the name; Finn imagined that after a few of these, he'd be pretty calm. Possibly unconscious.

They stayed at the bar for a while longer. When it was time to leave, Poe made a bit of a number out of it, pretending to be inebriated while sneakily distributing their remaining drinks among the people at nearby tables.

"Put your arm around my shoulders," Poe muttered, leaning against Finn as they made their way out of the bar. When Finn complied, hoping it looked more natural than it felt, Poe slung an arm around Finn's waist as if looking for support. He leaned in close enough that his lips almost brushed against Finn's jaw and, for what had to be the tenth time that night, told him to relax.

"I'm trying," Finn said, reining in a shiver, and Poe briefly tightened his grip on Finn's waist.

"Good," Poe said when they were outside, "because I think we've got company."

Finn immediately tensed up again. Poe huffed a laugh and gave Finn's waist another squeeze.

"It's probably nothing," he said, close to Finn's ear. "The Resistance doesn't have previous ties to this place, and we were careful. We would have noticed if someone followed us in. Even if it is a First Order spy, they're just following a hunch, nothing more."

"So what do you suggest?" Finn practically hissed, glancing over his shoulder as subtle as he knew how, which wasn't very, so he stopped. "We can't exactly go back to the ship with a tail."

"We play the part for a bit longer, see if they get bored."

Finn's heart lurched. "That seems – smart. Yeah."

"You up for it?"

Was Finn up for it? Was Finn _up for it_? Finn was up for it in all the wrong ways.

"Sure," Finn said, only a little bit choked. "No problem.

"We can figure out another way," Poe said, and there it was, that concern in his voice that made Finn feel guilty and conflicted.

"No, no, it's fine, it's great. Good, I mean. It's a good plan."

Poe was kind enough to not comment on exactly how convincing Finn sounded just then.

They walked aimlessly, Poe heavy and warm against Finn's side, his voice smooth and low and near, a mellow stream of words that sketched out his previous visits to Coruscant, the upgrades he was planning for his starfighter, the price of Mandalorean tea, and of course, updates on their shadow.

"Still there," Poe said at the twenty minute mark. "Persistent bugger."

They'd started out in a not entirely disreputable area, but their wandering had brought them to a neon maze full of seedy looking establishments, the streets filled with a rowdy, ever-shifting crowd.

"The red light district," Poe said. "This is good, actually."

"And why's that?" Finn asked. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Around here, no one apart from our shadow will pay much attention to a bit of public indecency, and I want to get a better look at them."

"Wait, what?"

"Here," Poe said, steering him toward a building the nearby signs painted in purple, blue and green. "Push me against the wall."

Finn was either too slow or too careful, because before he could do much, Poe all but threw himself back against said wall and yanked Finn close. He put a hand on Finn's neck and pulled his head down, making it look like Finn was mouthing his throat. Finn had put his hands out for balance, which meant that he was, quite accidentally, bracketing Poe in.

"Uh, Poe? Should I –?" Finn's arms twitched with indecision.

"No, that's good, keep them where they are," Poe said, his eyes half-lidded as he surveyed the street over Finn's shoulder, sounding a little bit distracted for, oh, entirely different reasons than Finn at the moment.

Poe ran a hand down Finn's side and pushed up with his hips a little, a sinuous movement done purely for the benefit of their audience, except Finn's stupid body didn't know that.

Yeah, Finn thought, resigned, when Poe turned to look at him, startled, their shadow briefly forgotten. There was really no hiding how affected he was, not when they were all but plastered against each other from knees to chest.

"Sorry," Finn said, feeling his cheeks heating up.

"I…" Poe seemed, for once, at loss for words. "It's fine. It happens."

"It happens?"

"Friction," Poe said, looking over Finn's shoulder again, but it didn't seem like he was observing anything. "Physical contact. It's normal, it doesn't – it doesn't mean a thing."

Poe swallowed, the movement of his throat visible and mesmerizing, and Finn realized, quite suddenly and with stark clarity, that he was done. He'd counted himself lucky just to be friends with people like Poe and Rey; surely it was greedy to want more. He'd been afraid that there was still too much of his upbringing in him to be worthy of anyone at all. He'd been afraid of disappointing Poe in, wow, too many ways to count.

But it was all bullshit, wasn't it? It wasn't like he'd ever really had friends before Poe and Rey, and that had turned out okay. So he used to be a stormtrooper. Big deal! He had a name now, he was reformed, he was never going back, and absolutely no one apart from himself seemed to have a problem with his past. 

Poe already knew him – knew he could be rash and impulsive and painfully awkward, knew about his nightmares, his fears – and he still wanted Finn, or at least had wanted him, two months ago.

"It does mean something," Finn said, because he could, on occasion, be as brave as Poe. "To me. It means a lot to me, and if you still – if it still means something to you, too, that would be. That would be great."

Be as brave as Poe: check. Be as smooth as Poe: never gonna happen.

At least Poe was looking at him again, even if it was a look Finn didn't think he'd ever seen before, and one he couldn't decipher.

They were in the middle of a mission, in a busy, seedy neon district, a shadow hiding in the crowd somewhere behind them, but when Poe cupped Finn's face in his hands and looked up at him, his eyes very dark and very serious, it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.

"Finn," Poe said, solemn and unsmiling. "I love you, I really, truly do. But your timing sucks balls."

Finn could have melted with relief. He grinned, unbidden. "We're doing this?"

Poe's answering grin was crooked. "We're doing this." 

He smacked a kiss against Finn's lips, a little off-center. It was probably the least romantic first kiss in the history of the universe. Finn was so happy he could have burst with it.

"Now let's lose the shadow," Poe said. "Preferably without shooting anyone."

And so they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Groanworthy cocktail names that did not make it into the final cut: Death N' Star, Salty Ren, Stormboozer. 
> 
> #sorrynotsorry


End file.
